Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Drive to Dallas

John rear-ended an SUV in his Corolla, so Chieko volunteered me to drive our Corolla to Dallas to let him borrow it for the summer. I headed out after work on Thursday, May 27. I always love a road trip, especially if I have time to stop and see whatever is along the highway.
The first interesting sight was a full moon rising over the red-rock mountains south of Moab.



Wilson Arch, right on the highway about 10 miles south of Moab.



My plan was to make it to Cortez Thursday night, and I arrived there about 12:30 a.m. I chose the same hotel Randy and I had stayed in in January. Although the floors required wearing shoes, the sheets were clean, and it was the only place I knew at the late hour. I paid $40 for 4-1/2 hours of restless sleep.



This is Shiprock, the formation for which the town of Shiprock was named. I didn't take pictures of the town, because this is the saddest town I have ever driven through, and I have pictures from a previous trip.



The quickest way to go from Salt Lake to Dallas is through Wyoming, Colorado, and Oklahoma. The second quickest way is through Cortez and Durango, Colorado; Farmington, New Mexico; Albuquerque, New Mexico; Amarillo, Texas; and Dallas. I've been on both those routes, so I chose the slowest route, through Cortez, Colorado; Shiprock, New Mexico; Gallup, New Mexico; Albuquerque, New Mexico; Roswell, New Mexico; Carlsbad, New Mexico; Midland, Texas; Fort Worth, Texas; and Dallas.

The highway in the above picture leads from Shiprock to Gallup. It is being upgraded from an old two-lane road to a four-lane divided highway using stimulus money from the federal economic Recovery Act. I drove this on a Friday, when I would imagine it gets as much traffic as any other time, and I could not figure out why this road was selected for the investment. There just isn't any traffic. I could name a lot of other roads that get a lot more traffic, such as the dangerous highway through Spanish Fork Canyon and Price Canyon, or the road from Price to Green River, or the road from Moab to Monticello.



This is one of the nicer homes along the Shiprock-to-Gallup highway.



An LDS church. The missionaries live in a trailer on the other side of the fenced-in church.



Can someone explain to me why gas at this station in the absolute middle of nowhere New Mexico is $.35 cheaper than the least expensive Chevron gas anywhere in Utah?



One horse from a small heard of wild New Mexico horses.



Gallup homes.



Gallup has a beautiful red-rock formation to the east of town. With an oil refinery and train line.



Train to nowhere.



When Randy and I drove back from Dallas after helping John move there seven years ago, we kept passing side roads that I wanted to explore but didn't have time. This homestead is on one of the side roads, which goes to El Malpais (Spanish for Badlands) National Monument.



The biggest attractions at El Malpais are large lava flows. I didn't have the shoes or water for a 14-mile hike across lava, but I did have time to drive to an overlook above the lava valley and to Ventana Arch (in the background here).



I did walk a few hundred yards along the lava trail.



Back on I-40 heading to Albuquerque, I passed numerous signs warning against drunk driving and providing a phone number for reporting drunk drivers. Then I passed this memorial put up by the state. It's called Memorial of Perpetual Tears. Each marker represents one person killed by a drunk driver in New Mexico over the past five years. I'm not sure how many markers are here, but they must number in the hundreds.



Albuquerque is pretty much just another city, but it does have an Old Albuquerque section, where the old downtown has been turned into shops and restaurants. It's a fun little place to visit.



And if you don't buy jewelry from this guy, he'll break your arms.



Just before Santa Rosa, I turned off of I-40 and headed south toward Roswell. There is life out here, but I think it's all beyond the horizon.



This is a rest stop. After reading the sign I decided I could wait until I got to a gas station.



Why do they need a fence?



I am certainly glad someone is caring for these public lands.



Speaking of gas stations. I passed several gas stations on I-40 and didn't realize that this big four-lane divided highway going south passed through a lot of desolation with no civilization or gas stations.



My gas gauge dropped to about a quarter of a tank, and there were no living towns or functioning gas stations anywhere. Just a lot of openness. I did have cell phone coverage, though, as Randy called me about this time. I figured if I ran out of gas I could call someone, or I could sit and wait for an alien to beam me up.



There is life out here. And I did finally go through a town called Vaughn that had a gas station, with gas cheaper than in Salt Lake. When I got a chance to look at a map, I realized it was the only town before Roswell, which I figured would have been about 30 miles farther than my gasoline would have taken me.



Now we're in Roswell country. I thought the Roswell alien stories were a lot of fabricated fun. But I have a little suspicion that this might be an alien posing as an earthling.



What did you think Roswell was famous for? Yes, milk, of course.



I stopped at the only alien souvenir shop that was open after 5 p.m. I got here about 8:30 or so.



This is Gene. He knows everything there is to know about aliens around Roswell. I think he might actually be one. He went on and on telling me about the three crash sites, showing me the locations on a well-worn map. Actually there were two crash sites and one landing site. Apparently I had passed one crash site on my way into Roswell. Some archeologists discovered the aliens at the landing site camping out. The archeologists were angry, because they were supposed to have exclusive rights to dig there, and they had the aliens chased down and captured by the sheriff or Air Force. Then all the living and dead aliens and their spaceships and debris were whisked away in a truck and a Buick to a U.S. military base in New Mexico.

Gene related all these details as if they happened yesterday (July 1947) and with the excitement of a first telling.

Oh, what attracted the aliens to this location were the U.S. nuclear bomb making and testing. They were attracted because they were used to nuclear fission, which occurs in stars, but these bombs created nuclear fusion. They first visited Nagasaki and Hiroshima but found only residual radiation. Not so interesting. In New Mexico they found the mother lode of bomb making. The weird winds around Roswell's north-south and east-west mountains are what caused the aliens to crash.

That's the synopsis of the 45-minute lecture, which would have gone longer, but the store was supposed to close at 9 p.m., and Gene's wife or Mork called looking for him.



The cactuses were in bloom.



Artesia is between Roswell and Carlsbad. It's named after all the artesian wells around here. I assume they're water wells, but this place is definitely an oil town.

The night before passing through Artesia, I stayed in Roswell in another National 9 motel. I called Motel 6, but they wanted $80. I would rather sleep in my car than give Motel 6 $80. But National 9 was only $50.



Driving to Carlsbad, I passed several signs advertising White's City. The cowboy who discovered and explored Carlsbad Caverns was named White, and the city is right at the entrance to Carlsbad Caverns National Park. Actually, the city is a closed-up motel, a couple of souvenir shops, and a road department building. I wanted to stop in White's City to stock up on flashbulbs, since I haven't seen them anywhere since cameras stopped using flash bulbs about 20 years ago. But then I forgot to stop.



The canyon leading up to the caverns is thick with cactus, mean old bushes, and tiny little burs that stick to your socks, shoes laces, and pant legs and are miserable and painful to pull out.



I squatted down to take some pictures of the amazing cactus flowers, and when I stood up I discovered a bunch of cactus spines sticking in my pants bum. Luckily I discovered and pulled them out before I sat in the car.



If you look closely at this cactus leaf (is that what they're called?) you'll see that not every bump on this cactus is a group of spines. The row along the bottom is a column of cactus bugs.



The flowers are certainly pretty, if well protected.



This is the entrance to Carlsbad Caverns. You can take this hiking path in, or if the hike is too much, you can take an elevator into the Big Room, which is the main attraction at the cave. Well, the main attraction besides the bats. Just above this path is an amphitheater, where, if you come at 7:30 at night, you can watch hundreds of thousand of bats fly out of the cave in clouds. This place is kind of stinky.

Luckily, once inside the cave it splits to the left and the right. The bats live in the left side, and the tourists go to the right. Farmers used to mine the bat guano to use as fertilizer. It was 40 feet deep in places.



If you take the elevator down, you miss the passageways and a sense of the length of the cave. I'm guessing the hike into the cave, around the main room and to the elevator (the only way out) is about two miles. Scientists estimate this cave is 50 miles long. And these mountains, the Guadeloupe Mountains, are full of caves, like Swiss cheese.



I'm not sure what this kind of formation is called. Stalactites hang from the ceiling. Stalagmites grow from the floor. When they meet they become a column. There are also curtains and other stuff. All of it is called decorations. Really, that's what the scientists came up with, decorations.



This is a large stalagmite.



And another one.



The caves were originally reefs under an ocean, made from the exoskeletons of living animals. Hydrochloric acid mixed with water and washed away the rock, leaving the cavern. The formations are made mostly of gypsum, which is what sheet rock is made from. The experts think the gypsum was made from some chemical reaction between the acid and who knows what. I'm not an expert, as I think I got this whole story mixed up. It did have something to do with oceans, reefs, acid, and gypsum. That's all I remember.



Because they're made of gypsum, the formations are naturally white. They get color from impurities such as iron (orange). Any green is algae that has grown due to the lights the Park Service uses to illuminate the cave. The temperature in the main part of the cave is always 53 degrees Fahrenheit, and the humidity is 90 percent.



The Park Service has left some of the old explorers' equipment. There's also a rope that goes 200 feet up into the ceiling. The explorers used a balloon the raise the rope to the ceiling and then snagged it on a stalactite. Then they convinced one of the less intelligent explorers to climb up the rope. He didn't die.



These workers are actually cleaning the cave. Do they know how big and covered with dirt this place is? More government stimulus money putting people to work?



A column.



This is the Big Room. You can see people on the other side, as the trail goes around it. The loop around the room is about one mile. This room is 8.2 acres, or the area of 6.2 football fields. It's the third largest cave in North America. I don't know what the other two are.



Back on the road. This is west Texas. What isn't farmland is brush (creosote bush?), cactus, some grasses, and no trees until you get much farther east.



I just thought the name of this road was funny, because the Bar J Wranglers used to do a joke where Babe thought one of the boys called him a goat head (they said "Go ahead.").



When you live in oil country, and all of southeast New Mexico and west Texas is oil country, you have to expect an oil well anywhere, even in the middle of your golf course. The entire town of Eunice actually smelled strongly of oil. Not a pleasant place to pass through.

Really, these wells are everywhere for hundreds of miles. And where there isn't a well, there's a drill making a well.



I'd like to come back to Stanton, Texas, June 12-13 to see what the Sorehead Days are all about.



This is near Abilene, where I turned off to visit the Buffalo Gap historical village.



The village has buildings from three periods: the 1890s, 1900s, and 1920s. I didn't realize how these old gas pumps worked. The customer would request a certain amount of gas, say five gallons. The attendant would hand pump gas into the glass container, which had the gallons marked on the side, until it reached the five-gallon mark. Then he'd open a valve and let the gas drain into the customer's vehicle.



An old Firestone tire in the gas station, which was a gathering place for the men of town.



Dr. Pepper is a Texas staple.



This courthouse is in its original spot in Buffalo Gap. The other buildings were brought here to make up the historical village.



The only armadillo I saw on the whole trip.



I stayed in Midland, Texas, on Saturday night. I found a Day's Inn with free Internet access (I'd been stopping in Day's Inn parking lots the past couple days to check email) for $50. It was about the quality of a Motel 6, except for the Internet, a hair dryer, and free breakfast, which consisted of cold cereal and do-it-yourself waffles. But the woman in charge wouldn't provide Pam or some other spray-on oil as other hotels do, because "It makes the pan sticky." Huh? So I had to pick my waffle out of the waffle iron grooves and ended up with a scrambled waffle, a melted plastic fork, and a bowl of Raisin Bran.



Finally, I'm in Dallas. Irving, actually. This is Elliot with a helmet I got at Carlsbad Caverns.



Happy 4th Birthday, Mei!



Wells has gained a considerable amount of weight since the last time we saw him. Not that he's fat at all. It's just that he had had jaundice and was thin and didn't seem to be growing. Not a problem anymore.



While at the Day's Inn in Midland, I bid via Priceline on a 3-1/2-star hotel in Irving and got this Marriott for $50. The hotel even gave me (and, I suppose, the other seven guests in the hotel that night) a room with a balcony overlooking the little lake. Seriously, I counted eight cars in the parking lot. It was the Sunday night before Memorial Day, and there just were no business people to stay here. I should probably have bid less.



The Dallas Forth Worth airport, US Airways terminal on Memorial Day 2010.




Monday, April 26, 2010

Annie's Blessing

Sunday, April 25, was Annabelle's blessing day at Sara and Jared's new ward in Kaysville (Holme's Creek Ward, I think).
This picture is from a few days before her blessing.



Annie in her blessing dress.



And again.



The proud parents. Unfortunately, I neglected to take pictures of their new house. Next time. Maybe I'm just jealous and don't want to show their beautiful new home.



...with a backyard that extends into a neighborhood common area. By the way, if you have a rule against kids jumping on the trampoline on Sunday, I think it's ok if they wear suits and dresses.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Wells' Blessing and Road Trip

On Thursday I flew to Dallas in two hours. On Friday I took Misa and Wells to the airport for a flight to Salt Lake. Then John, Caroline, Elliot, Mei, and I spent two days driving back to Salt Lake. We did this so John's family would have their van for the week they're here, so they wouldn't have to buy six airline tickets, and I like road trips.Caroline is ready to go.



Elliot is ready to go.



Mei is excited to go.



Twenty movies in the leopard bag should be plenty.



Google said the quickest route was through Oklahoma City, Denver, and Wyoming, so I thought we could stop and see the Austins in OKC. I told Jamie we were coming. But then Weatherundrground.com said Wyoming would be snowy and windy. So we decided to take the south route thorough Amarillo and Albuquerque. So I told Jamie we weren't coming. Then Misa mentioned that we could go to OKC and still take I-40 west through Amarillo and Albuquerque. So we thought maybe we'd go to OKC. But then Google said that would take a lot longer. So we decided not to go to Austins'. Then, at noon on Friday, when we left Dallas, my Garmin GPS said the OKC-t0-Amarillo route was two hours shorter than Google had said. So we called Jamie at the last minute and said we were coming.

After losing a half hour or so in a Dallas traffic jam and more time in other slow traffic and a missed toll-road exit, we got to Austins', zoomed to the Thai Stop across the street, ate, said good-bye, and got back on the road about 6:20.



This is about eight hours into the drive, with only 16 more hours to go.

We debated driving straight through but decided that if the Garmin were correct, we had time to sleep, so we stopped in a place called Tucumcari, New Mexico, and got two rooms at Motel 6 for $60 total.

John asked Caroline if she wanted to sleep in the bed with snoring Grandpa or sleep with the other two kids in the bed in his room. She chose the tree kids over snoring Grandpa. Then we offered the extra bed to Elliot, and he liked that idea. Standing by the bed, he said, "This is the first time I ever had my own bed in a hotel."

Then Caroline came in and said, "Grandpa, I changed my mind. I'd like to sleep in this bed." I told her she'd have to work it out with Elliot. He agreed to let her sleep there, too. Then Mei decided she wanted to sleep with them.

I told them that if all three were going to sleep in the same bed they'd have to back into John's room. No, they wanted the bed in my room. I said, "Okay, then your dad and I will change rooms." That was okay with them. So we ended up completely switching rooms. I didn't understand the logic, but everyone seemed happy.




Just south of Moab we stopped at this arch (I think it's called Wilson Arch) near Hole 'N the Rock and hiked up to it. Other than driving, stopping for gas and potty breaks, and one sit-down lunch of meatball sandwiches at Subway in Cortez, this was our only vacationing.



On Sunday John blessed Wells in Misa's parents' ward.



Four generations. Me, John with Wells, my dad, and Elliot.



John's family: John with Wells, Misa, Caroline, Elliot, and Mei.



Wells with Sara and Jared's baby, Annabelle. They were born in January one day and 1,400 miles apart. This is the first time they've been together.


Monday, February 22, 2010

Unlucky, Lucky, Unlucky, Lucky

Have you ever wondered who the idiots are who leave big, deep tire marks in the mud in the West Desert along I-80? I found out who one is. I decided this afternoon to take my laptop to a nice, quiet spot to write a couple of brochures for work. I grabbed two 45-cent tacos and a fish taco from Dell Taco at the Tooele exit on I-80 and headed west to "my office" (the Dugway exit). I paralleled I-80 west for a ways, then turned north and crossed the railroad tracks. I decided I'd like to get a picture of a train passing. I found a dirt road that followed the utility poles east and then a path, or at least tire tracks, that led back to the south, parallel to the highway and right to the railroad tracks. I figured this would be a good place to eat lunch and watch for trains.



Unfortunately, I was watching the distance to the tracks and didn't notice that the trail went from dry to wet. As soon as I noticed the wheels slipping, I tried to head for the highway berm, but it was too late. The two left wheels sunk to the axles in cement-like clay mud, and I was stuck. Four-wheel drive does no good when all four wheels spin like inner tubes on water.

I had forgotten to throw the shovel that I used to keep in the Tahoe into the Toyota, so I found a small piece of plywood and started to dig a path out. I also stuck rusted steel and other garbage under the right wheels, which were in only a few inches of mud, trying to find some traction. This did not work at all.

Two guys in a DWR truck with ATVs stopped and asked whether I needed a ride somewhere. I asked if they had a shovel. They did. I bought it for $20. I started digging a trench. I also found a large pile of crushed rock the railroad had left by the tracks for road bed. I hauled several buckets of rocks and dumped them into the trench and under the right tires. This was not working. The tire treads were completely filled with the dense mud so the tires were like greased slicks spinning against the gravel. I also had a hard time keeping my shoes on my feet, as the mud kept trying to suck them off.

A tow truck heading out to Mag Corp stopped. He had to call his boss to see whether it would be okay to pull me out before he headed out to where he was supposed to be. His boss wasn't happy but said it was okay if it was a simple straight-out pull. He backed up his truck and handed me the cable hooks (he didn't want to get his cowboy boots in the mud). I slipped the hook into the Toyota's right tow loop. I couldn't connect the left hook, because the loop was right on the mud.

The tow truck driver turned on the winch, and his truck started sliding down the roadside. I gave the Toyota some gas and it slowly moved forward. I turned the steering wheel to the right to go up the highway berm, but the Toyota kept going straight toward a utility pole.

After three tries from three positions, we got the Toyota onto dry ground. I gave the driver $50.



I took a picture of a train as it passed.



When I got onto the highway, mud flew everywhere, and the Toyota drove like it was on severe washboard. Apparently mud was packed into the wheels, taking them way out of balance. I drove to the other side of the freeway, where a very bumpy road heads up the side of the mountain to a point that overlooks the freeway. I thought this might knock some mud off.

A ton of mud fell onto the bumpy road.

As I headed up the mountainside, I scared up these animals. I think they're female bighorn sheep. Two guys standing by their truck at the top asked if I had seen anything interesting. I said, "You mean like some sheep?" They said, "Yes! We've been looking for them." I told them that I'd scared them up the mountain, and the guys took off, but I think the sheep were long gone over the top by then.



At the top of the point, I decided to pull the left two wheels to scrape out the remaining mud. Notice the wheel is off the Toyota. Notice the jack is to the left of the wheel. Notice the wheel rotor is on the ground and the bumper is sitting on a storage box. This is not good. After I got the wheel off, the Toyota rolled off the jack.

Fortunately, I was able to get the jack out from under the fallen truck. Unfortunately, the frame where the jack needed to be placed was too close to the ground to fit the jack upright. Fortunately, the frame bends upward behind the wheel and I was able to get the jack under there. Unfortunately, even though I put the jack on a rock, the jack wouldn't lift the truck high enough to install the wheel. Fortunately, I found a big square rock that fit under the frame in front of the wheel well, so I was able to rest the truck on the rock while I moved the jack to its proper position.



I scraped at least 10 pounds of mud out of each of the left wheels. This mud is like thick, wet cement. It really sticks.



All is well that ends well. The wheels are back where they belong. I drove to the car wash on 9th East and after $10 was able to wash most of the mud off. All is back to normal with no damage.



Except my gloves, hunting knife, and shoes. They still need some cleaning. And now I have to get caught up on my work.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Fish Springs on Presidents Day Weekend

I know that I already went to Fish Springs with Randy on Martin Luther King Jr Day, but I had to take the Sequoia somewhere yesterday, and this seemed like a good choice.
You can get to Fish Springs from a few different directions (Wendover, Dugway, Delta, Tooele). I chose to go from the east end of the Pony Express Trail, which starts at Vernon (it actually starts in Missouri, but the marked Utah section starts here), south of Tooele. This is the first summit at 6,192 feet before the road drops into a valley. There is one more mountain pass before Fish Springs. The rest of the road is mostly flat desert valley.



The road from Dugway connects here (the Sequoia is actually on the Dugway road, but I didn't come from that direction).



Simpson Springs is a Pony Express stop. It has a rebuilt stone building, the remains of a farmer's building erected from the original Pony Express building, and a campground.



This is where the Powell guy supposedly took his boys camping in the middle of the night when his wife disappeared. Notice the yellow warning sign added to the bottom of the official sign.



There are too many people with guns and not enough rabbits in this desert.



After about 60 miles of dry dirt road (60 to 70 miles per hour over some straight stretches), I came to the Fish Springs refuge (this picture was taken facing east, even though I was traveling west on the road).



One of the many ponds at Fish Springs. A nice refuge in the middle of a very dry West Desert.



The birds seem to love it here.



This little guy's four buddies fled when I stopped to take a picture.



I left Fish Springs just before sunset.



These barren mountains are quite pretty at dusk.



Last time, Randy and I took a cutoff toward the Brush-Wellman Highway that was just a few miles east of Fish Springs. This time I decided to take a different cutoff even farther east called River Bottom Road, which led to the Weiss Highway. I was hoping Weiss Highway would end up on the Baker Hot Springs Road, but I really had no idea where it went. The sign said Delta was 40 miles, and I figured at the least I'd have to hit a paved road before too far.



River Bottom Road was the most boring road I've been on in a long time--hardly even any sage brush, and the mountains were quite a distance on the west and the east. That is, until I came to the lakes in the road. This is just a little puddle. I drove through lakes that shot waves of water 15 feet in the air on either side of the Sequoia.

Then I came to a stretch of mud that was about 1/4 mile long. I almost turned around but didn't want to go back through the lakes, so I plowed ahead. It was all I could do to hang onto the steering wheel and keep the Sequoia from ending up in the meadow. But the Sequoia kept going slower and slower and just about bogged to a complete stop when I found a relative dry spot and was able to pull out.



I finally reached the Weiss Highway, which turned out to be a dirt road just like the one I'd been driving on but without as much mud. The Weiss Highway went a few short miles to the Brush Highway, which is paved.



Yeah. I spent $11 at the car wash last night and still found a few trickles of mud here and there this morning.


Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Tanner's Fourth Birthday

Yesterday we celebrated Tanner's 4th birthday. When we walked in the door, the first thing he said was, "Look at this awesome cake." Then he spent the next 15 minutes staring at it while everyone else visited.

He was also pretty proud to be four. I asked him if he felt grown up. He said, "No, I'm not a grown up."
Jared ran next door to borrow candles.



Blowing out the candles.



All the kids got a few swings at the penguin piñata (because they don't make Spider-Man piñatas). I think Stanton was feeling a little concern for the penguin .


Feet make a good shelf for opening presents.



Tanner made a pretty good haul of cars, little Japanese Transformer-like balls that pop into vehicles or robots when dropped onto a magnetic card (I forgot what they're called), clothes, and a dragon kite (or was it a dinosaur--I forgot that, too).



Everyone got a hug as thanks.